To The Rescue
by Wahoogal06
Summary: Set in the post Superman Returns universe. Superman's back and saving the day, but he can't be everywhere at once. So what happens when Metropolis' Man of Steel can't be there to lend a hand? That's when new heroes must step up to the plate...
1. The Story

Now that Superman had returned the people of Earth fell back on their old habit of calling upon him whenever they needed help; whether it was to put out an oil fire, stop a bank robbery, or rescue a cat from a tree, no circumstance was too great or small to stop the people from crying out "Superman, help!" However, what many quickly forgot in the wake of his return was that for the last five years they had relied on one another for aid in their time of need.

June 2007. Clark Kent had been sitting at his desk, pretending to pore over some old notes while stealing glances of Lois at her cubicle. Even though he'd been back for almost a year Perry more often than not put them on different assignments, instead of re-assembling the crack reporting team of Lane & Kent. Clark suspected that this was Richard's doing, while Perry simply informed him that Lois' writing style had evolved while he was away, and that more often than not a partner was a hindrance rather than a help to her. Either way, it did make the times that they did get to work together all the sweeter.

"Lane, Olsen, my office, now!"

"Yes Chief!" cried Jimmy as he scrambled out of his chair.

"Coming Chief," said Lois, a little reluctantly.

As soon as the door closed behind the pair Clark tuned in to their conversation. He was giving them an assignment…an award ceremony across town for a notable surgeon at Metropolis General. They had to leave now if they were going to make it in time…

The door to Perry's office swung open "…And Olsen, make sure you get me some good photos of this one! I want every speech, every bigwig, every handshake…in short, everything! And keep it in focus! Your last batch was sloppy!"

Jimmy cringed at that last remark as he slunk out of the office behind Lois. "Yes Chief; anything you say Chief!"

Lois very adeptly retrieved her jacket, purse and handheld audio recorder all in one fell swoop before making her way over to the elevator. Jimmy, of course, bolted in the opposite direction to retrieve his camera and camera bag, knocking over a young page in the process, before scrambling to catch up with her at the elevator. _Poor guy_, thought Clark as he watched them exit the Planet's offices, _he thinks he can move at super-speed_.

Two and a half hours later Clark was just about to wrap up his story when he heard a rumbling sound coming from the West, followed by a few short screams. A second went by in which he focused more intentionally on the suspicious sounds. More screams, this time louder, reached his ears, as well as the crashing of cars and the collapse of debris from several large buildings. He quickly discerned that there was an earthquake in progress out in Southern California, and the people needed rescuing. Clark hastily saved his story to his desktop before scurrying to the broom closet to change and fly West, where he was needed. As clichéd as it was, he couldn't help but think to himself that this was indeed _a job for_ _Superman_.

Right around the time that Superman was zooming over Colorado, Lois and Jimmy found themselves back on the street hailing a cab to the Planet. The ceremony they had attended was honorable, hailing a physician who had done much for the community, but it was also dull and predictable. After the last shot had been captured and the last quote from a senior official had been collected the duo decided it was time to call it quits.


	2. What the?

"Gee Lois, I don't know, I think we should get back in there, the Chief might want a few more options…"

Lois let out an exasperated sigh, "Jimmy, you have over 400 photos on that thing! He could plaster the Planet with pictures from front to back and still have some left over! You've given him enough options."

"I guess you're right," Jimmy replied half-heartedly as he stared at the screen on the back of his camera, still questioning the value of each shot. "It's just that…"

"Do you _want_ to walk back to the Planet?"

"No, not really."

"Then don't finish that thought," she said to him as she climbed into a nearby cab.

Lois spent the ride staring out the window, indulging in a game of people-watching, while Jimmy sat silently next to her obsessing over his photographs. They were headed down 34th Street when Lois noticed something out of the ordinary.

"Stop the cab!"

"Lady, we ain't there yet, and we're in the middle of traffic here!" the cabbie replied.

Jimmy turned to her with a quizzical expression on his face. "Lois…?"

"I said stop the cab!"

"Suit yourself…." The car came to an abrupt halt, resulting in a cacophony of horns screaming back at them. Lois scrambled out of the cab.

"HEY!"

Jimmy threw some tens at the cab driver, "Uh, this should do it….thanks!" he cried behind him as he chased after Lois.

_Thank God my favorite heels broke this morning,_ she thought to herself as she ran up the steps of brownstone #2314, _or I never would've been able to do this_.

Jimmy, his camera bag flung across his chest, had almost caught up to her when he noticed what caught Lois' eye in the cab a moment earlier. "FIRE!"


	3. Lending a Hand

The smoke was coming out of a small opening in one of the first floor windows, a smoke that was thicker and grayer than a simple over-cooked dinner could produce. Lois was kicking down the front door and Jimmy scrambled up to help. People started to gather on the sidewalk, but they were too stunned to be of any help to the building's occupants, or to Jimmy and Lois. So the duo kept struggling by themselves with the front entrance.

"Hey you!" Jimmy yelled, pointing to a man who was staring up at the building with jaw-hanging, a cell phone in hand, "Hang up and dial 9-1-1, NOW!" The gentleman promptly obeyed as the door finally gave way and they disappeared into the building. The brownstone had been broken down into six different apartments, two on each floor. Lois began knocking on the door to the apartment where the smoke had come from, but got no response.

"Maybe nobody's home?" Jimmy posited, coughing at all the smoke.

"Well keep going! I'll go to the top floor; we'll meet in the middle!" She sprinted up the stairs.

Knocking furiously at the door of 1B and screaming "FIRE!" at the top of his lungs, Jimmy was able to quickly get Mrs. Cane, a young mother with two small children, through the smoke and out the front entry. Up at 3A Lois helped Mr. Behr, an elderly father and his middle-aged mentally-challenged son Alan escape, as well as alerted the widow across the hall. Then she moved downstairs to warn the other neighbors.

Esther Peterson of 3B had led a relatively quiet life until the afternoon of the fire. Her husband Brian had passed away eight years earlier and she moved into the brownstone shortly thereafter. She had no children living nearby and so mostly kept to herself, venturing out for groceries and other supplies for her and her cat Pepper every couple of days. Occasionally she'd meet up with another widow in the building, Anne Crewe, for tea in Mrs. Crewe's first floor apartment. On the afternoon of the fire Esther had followed Lois down the stairs, the smoke rising up to meet them, when she realized that in her haste she had forgotten Pepper. In the five minutes it took for her to find him (he was hiding under the sofa) the situation downstairs had drastically changed.

While Esther was retrieving her cat Lois and Jimmy were able to notify Angela Klein of 2A and Joseph Ortiz in 2B of the condition of the apartment downstairs. They could all hear the sirens some ways off when Angela inquired after Mrs. Crewe in 1A.

"There was no answer!" Jimmy yelled, the sound of the flames getting louder and the smoke getting thicker with each passing minute.

Angela stared back at him in horror. "But she's housebound! She has to be in there!" Lois had had her back to them when she overheard this and turned to meet Jimmy's eyes. They both simultaneously made for the stairs and rushed back to the first floor.


	4. Mrs Peterson & Mr Ortiz

After Lois let him know that the building was on fire Joe Ortiz turned back into his apartment to grab his sneakers and shirt before dashing out of harm's way. It was then that he heard the all-too-familiar scratching from the floor above. _Mrs. Peterson…_he thought, a look of increased concern spreading across his face. The two neighbors had been at war ever since he moved in thirteen months ago. Where Mrs. Peterson was quiet and introverted, Joe was a loud extrovert. She was a homebody; He worked nights as a DJ at various Metropolis night clubs and kept odd hours. Joe would arrive home at three or four in the morning, the music and the adrenaline still pumping through his body, and he'd turn the CD player on while he fixed himself something to eat. That's when the scratching and banging would start.

_She must have super-hearing, _he thought to himself on more than one occasion, _to be able to hear this. It's not even that loud!_ She would wake up in the middle of the night to his "racket" (she refused to call it music), banging and scraping her shoes along the thin wood floor that separated her apartment from his, until he'd finally give up and head to bed. Some nights he'd have her go at it for two hours before he'd turn the music off and go to sleep, other times he wouldn't bother to put up much of a struggle. The few times that their paths did cross in the buildings hallways they'd give each other the "Evil Eye" or otherwise refuse to acknowledge the other person's existence. It became a sadistic game between the two of them, one that had been kept up for far too long.

When Joe heard the scraping now, however, he knew it wasn't because of the ruckus downstairs. He threw his sneakers and shirt on and made a run for the door. Mrs. Peterson was slowly, tremblingly making her way down the stairs, grasping Pepper with one hand and the railing in the other. Her face was pale as a sheet and she could barely see; the smoke had increased in volume, making it difficult to breathe. Without warning she slipped and collapsed in a heap on the second floor, shaking uncontrollably. Esther couldn't find the strength to get up off the floor, she just sat there dumbstruck and clutching her cat. Just then a blue and red figure dashed to her aid, reaching a hand around her back and lifting her up to her feet.

Half-supporting and half-carrying, Joe Ortiz helped Esther Peterson brave the smoke and flames on the first floor, and a moment later both emerged coughing and covered in soot on the sidewalk.

"Thank you…thank you…" Mrs. Peterson kept saying in-between coughing and crying. Joe let her wipe her red eyes on the sleeve of his favorite Red Sox jersey while they both watched the smoke and flames envelope the building.


	5. Apartment 1A

Jimmy and Lois had left Angela and Joe on the landing on the second floor in order to get to Mrs. Crewe. The handle was hot to the touch, not to mention that when Jimmy tried busting it down with his shoulder, he discovered she had about five different locks fastened shut.

_The window... _"The window!" Lois cried out.

The front window that Lois saw the smoke poring out of earlier was ten to fifteen feet above ground and was the farthest away from the front stoop. She leaned over the railing and tried the window nearest to them, only to find that it too was securely locked.

Jimmy came up behind her, "You better stand back Lois!" She turned around in time to see him wildly swinging his beloved camera and camera case over his head. Lois backed down the stairs toward a wide-eyed Angela. Jimmy held tight to the strap of the case before pitching the bulk of it into the window, the shattered glass falling to the sidewalk below. He wrapped his jacket around his left hand and used it to break the few sharp pieces that remained intact in the frame, then scrambled onto the railing and crouched through the window, the black smoke streaming up into his face.

Everything inside was black. Fear gripped Jimmy as the enormity of the situation hit him full-on; he had entered the belly of the fiery beast and there was no guaranteed exit. The sound of the licking flames was eclipsed by the frantic beating of his heart. He swallowed hard, got on his hands and knees, slipped the camera case over his sore shoulder, and crawled around in search of Mrs. Crewe. Despite every ounce of sense screaming at him to do the opposite, Jimmy crawled toward the smoke billowing out of the kitchen in the rear of the apartment. The flames had eaten through the wall connecting to the bedroom and had spread to the hallway. Soon they'd be engulfing the entire apartment.

He had only crawled a few paces into the living room when Jimmy brushed his hands against something soft and fleshy; it was Mrs. Crewe's leg. Anne had had lymphedema in her legs for years which made the going slow and difficult for her, even under normal circumstances. She had been watching her afternoon soap opera when the smell of smoke alerted her to a problem in the kitchen. With great care she lifted herself out of her worn armchair and shuffled toward the back of the apartment to investigate. By the time she reached her stove the flames were licking high up the wall and spreading.

Now while Anne Crewe was slow to move, she was _not_ slow to act. Without a moment's hesitation she worked her way around the stove toward the sink where the small fire extinguisher was kept. She was able to momentarily slow the progress of the fire down but was unable to quash it completely. When the foam was gone she reached for some nearby tea towels and attempted to put the fire out by hand, which resulted in second degree burns on her hands, fingers and the lower parts of both arms. Anne knew that the situation was beyond her efforts now; she needed to get out of the building and get help, fast.

Mrs. Crewe willed her lymph-filled legs to move as quickly as possible, but it was all in vain; the smoke was just too overpowering. Falling to her hands and knees, the pain searing through her body, she knew all was lost. She opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a barely audible "Help, Superman" before she passed out on the living room rug.

When Jimmy found her she had been unconscious on the floor for a full ten minutes; he put his middle and index finger against her neck and discovered she still had a pulse, although it was weak and thready. He also noticed the burns on her hands and arms, so he made sure to reach under her armpits in order to drag her toward the door. The flames were fast on their heels. Jimmy used the jacket still wrapped around his left hand to undue the myriad number of locks on Mrs. Crewe's door.

Lois had been standing outside nervously pacing up and down the sidewalk. The sirens were drawing closer, but they weren't close enough, and now smoke AND flames were bursting out of Mrs. Crewe's window where Jimmy had disappeared through a few moments ago.

"JIMMY!!!!" she screamed against the roar of the flames. There was no response. "JIMMY!!!!" Still no response. _Well that's it, I'm going in…_she dashed up the steps of the brownstone once more.

All four of the top locks came undone effortlessly, but the last of Mrs. Crewe's locks stuck fast. Jimmy's fingers were raw and red from the heat, the smoke was near blinding, and the flames were closing in fast.

"JIMMY!" he heard from the opposite side of the door.

"LOIS! I CAN'T GET THE LAST LOCK!" he cried back.

"STAND BACK!"

He bent down and dragged Mrs. Crewe away from the door as Lois began kicking it in. Luckily for all three it gave way with much more ease than the front entryway had. With the last bit of strength, Jimmy scooped Mrs. Crewe up and carried her out of the burning apartment, with Lois guiding him to the safety of the street below.


	6. The Aftermath

Lois, Jimmy and an insensible Anne Crewe emerged from the building just as two Metropolis Fire trucks and three ambulances arrived on the scene. The paramedics wheeled a gurney over and the young photographer gingerly placed the unconscious widow upon it. As they took her away Jimmy and Lois crossed the street and collapsed on the sidewalk, alternately coughing and brushing dust and debris off their clothes. Another pair of paramedics came over soon after the ambulance with Mrs. Crewe left for the hospital and handed an oxygen mask each to Jimmy and Lois. It was only then, sitting on the sidewalk and inhaling deeply from their oxygen tanks, that they were able to process what had just happened.

It all took only twelve minutes between when they spotted the fire from the cab to when they found themselves back on the sidewalk again. Lois was covered in soot and had sweat pouring down her face. Her heart was racing as if she'd just run a marathon and her right leg was stiff with kicking. Her right shoulder was tender to the touch, the soles of her flats were a little scorched and one of her jacket sleeves was half pulled off, exposing a soot-stained blouse._ I'll need to get to the tailor's before the weekend and get this fixed in time for Monday… _Jimmy was covered in dust and ash like Lois, but his left shirt sleeve had been torn when he went through the window and it now exposed a long bloody gash on his arm. His right shoulder ached and would soon turn into a giant black and purple web-like bruise. He pulled up a trouser leg and saw that his knees were scratched up from crawling and he noted that his whole body was trembling.

Jimmy turned away from watching the firefighters extinguish the blaze and looked down at his camera bag. Parts of the black fabric had been torn, revealing bits of the white cotton fabric underneath. He pulled out one particularly obvious piece of glass that had lodged itself from when he hurled it through the window. Hesitating for a moment and inhaling deeply from his oxygen tank, he cautiously pulled the zipper back to inspect what internal damage there might be. Lois watched him, worried about what mess he might find inside.

A giant smile crossed his face. _Never again will I curse the Luminescent Camera Company's work, never ever again!_ His camera remained completely intact; the only part that hadn't survived the inferno well was his lens, which now had a Y-shaped crack in it..._and that_, he figured, _could be easily replaced_. Lois looked over his shoulder and let out a sigh of relief.

"That's great Jimmy," she said, pulling the mask off of her face. "I'm happy for you."

Jimmy pulled off his mask too. "Thanks," he replied, still grinning. Then he looked back across the street at the occupants of brownstone #2314 and at the firefighters rushing in and out of the building. "You know, it's a good thing you saw the smoke and stopped the cab, otherwise…."

"I don't even want to think about what would have happened. And don't discount your efforts so quickly mister; if it weren't for your quick thinking and your camera that woman in 1A wouldn't have made it."

"Yeah, well I haven't seen anyone sprint up and down a flight of stairs like that since Superman. Speaking of which, where do you suppose he was anyway? I mean, we could've really used his help."

"Honestly Jimmy! He is only _one_ person after all, and there are an infinite number of disasters and crises occurring in the world at any given moment, so I'm sure he was off saving lives elsewhere. Besides, you know he would have been here if he could have," she said a little wistfully.

"I know, you're right." He stopped talking and looked down at his hands resting idly between his knees when he caught sight of the time on his watch. "Oh my gosh, Lois, it's almost 4 o'clock…we'd better get back to the Planet." Jimmy jumped to his feet. The duo walked up the street a short ways away from the commotion when an empty cab came into view. Lois hailed it and it slowed to a stop by her feet.

"Jimmy listen, I'm not going back to the office," she informed him as she opened the back door, "Tell Perry not to worry and that he'll get his story by six o'clock. I'm going to work on it from home," she finished saying, half her body sticking out of the cab.

"Sure Lois, I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and they parted company.

Little did either of them know that their exchange had been captured by a nearby on-looker of the disaster. Ten year old Michaela had been out on a walk with her father when he noticed the hubbub down the street and stopped to watch. Her Daddy hadn't noticed the people that helped the lady in the smoky building when they crossed the street and sat down. And just like the paramedics, her Daddy hadn't noticed when they got up to leave either. Sneaking a small hand into his pocket she took out his camera phone and slyly snapped a picture. The image was out of focus, but one could make out a man on the right side of the photo with a black bag of some sort slung across his chest, talking to a woman on the left who was half in and half out of a yellow cab. It was the only piece of physical evidence that anybody had showing that the two heroes even existed.


	7. Back at the Planet

Jimmy Olsen walked a block over from the fiery brownstone and hailed a cab back to the Planet. He was halfway to the office when Superman was spotted soaring over Metropolis, scanning the streets below to see what had gone amiss while he was helping the Earthquake victims in California. He had stopped three buildings from collapsing, held up a pedestrian bridge whose cables had snapped, flown sixteen people to area hospitals, stopped five gas fires and fished one car out of a fissure that had opened up in the middle of the street. Thankfully, between his efforts and those of the local authorities', the area was quickly returning to normal. Superman spotted the smoke from the fire overhead, and even though he could clearly hear and see the fire trucks on-site, he decided to investigate anyway.

"Everything alright here Captain?" he inquired, as he landed near a man standing by a fire truck and barking orders into a two-way radio clipped to his shoulder.

"What the…oh Superman, it's you. Yes, yes, we've got it all under control here. Only one woman was seriously injured, and she's already at the hospital. These people were very lucky though…" he said, gesturing to the eight occupants milling around outside, "…if it hadn't been for those two strangers running in and out of the building alerting them to the fire, the situation would have been a whole lot worse."

A look of surprise and confusion briefly crossed Superman's face. "Worse? How so? And two strangers…?"

"I mean two heroes is more like it, they saved all these people. One of them even crawled through that window there and saved the woman in the hospital I told you about. The other one, a woman, was on the other side kicking the door down. Let me tell you, whoever the landlord is, he's going to get an earful from our Investigative Unit, not to mention a hefty fine and a lot of hell from his tenants."

"Captain Millbank, I'm sorry, but I don't follow you."

"Sorry Superman. You see, it's still preliminary, but from what we can gather the fire was an electrical one, originating from the kitchen of that unit over there," he pointed to the soot-stained windows of Mrs. Crewe's apartment. "The woman who lives there tried to put it out herself, and got burns up and down her arms. She made it to the living room before the smoke overtook her. Now, under code 334-56C, all these units are supposed to have fire alarms inside, as well as ones out in the hallway, not to mention a sprinkler system installed in the middle of each floor. The fire alarm in that apartment, we believe its batteries were dead. Nobody claims to have heard a sound. And the alarms and sprinkler systems in the hallways? My guys haven't found any yet; doesn't even look like the landlord made the pretense of even putting them in. The way that fire was going, it would've blocked the only exit they had, and all their gooses' would've been cooked."

Superman didn't respond; as he was too busy quietly fuming.

"Do you know where this landlord is?" he finally asked.

"We're tracking him down as we speak."

"Good, he needs to be brought to justice. You're right, these people were very lucky."

"Yeah, don't I know it, and they know it too. Too bad those two didn't stick around longer, there are a lot of people who'd like to thank them properly."

_So would I_…thought Superman. "Well Captain, it appears you have everything in order. If you need help locating that landlord, just give me a shout."

"Will do!" he replied, as the man in blue shot up into the air.

Ten minutes later Clark Kent collapsed into his chair. Reports about the earthquake and Superman's multiple rescues were on a handful of channels, but he was too busy still fuming about the irresponsible actions of the landlord of the brownstone to take much notice. _The Captain was right. If it hadn't been for those two people I would be pulling 9 charred bodies out of a fiery building right now_. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Clark heard a door slam angrily shut, and out of the corner of his eye saw Perry stomping around, yelling something about deadlines. He quickly got back to work on his story.

What happened next Clark never would've thought possible, not even if he lived to be three hundred. Jimmy Olsen stood up to Perry White.

Jimmy was still dirty and sore when he stumbled into the offices of the Daily Planet. Perry White was on the war path when he caught sight of Jimmy, sans Lois, and made a bee-line for the young photographer.

"Olsen! Where have you been?! And where's Lois?? I need those photos and I need my story; I got a big hole on the front page of the local section and…why, what the heck happened to you? You look like you got in a brawl with a couple of coal miners and came out on the losing side!" Perry started laughing at his own wit.

It was at that moment that something inside Jimmy snapped. Between the daily verbal abuse and the ill-timed joke Jimmy decided he had had enough. And after everything that he and Lois had gone through that afternoon, he resolved not to take anymore of Perry's grief.

"CHIEF!" he yelled, catching the attention of the entire bull pen. The room was silent, even Perry stopped mid-chuckle to stare at Jimmy Olsen. "YOU WANT PHOTOS?! YOU WANT _**YOUR**_ PHOTOS?!? I'LL GIVE YOU _**YOUR**_ PHOTOS!" He reached into his shredded bag, pulled out the camera with the cracked lens, and took out the memory card. "Here! Take it! You got 412 shots! And you know what else, you know what else, _Chief_? You can't take the other 410 shots, and stick 'em where the SUN DON'T SHINE!!!!" Jimmy turned to leave.

Clark's jaw hit his desk in disbelief. He could hear everyone else in the room inhale sharply as they braced themselves for Perry's rejoinder.

"Olsen!"

"And another thing!" he said, whizzing around to face his boss once more, "I'm a photographer and a damn good one too! I expect to be treated with a little more respect in the future, alright?!" Perry stood rooted to the spot, absolutely dumbstruck. "And I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off. Alex is in the dark room and he'll develop _your_ shots. Oh, and Lois said she's working from home and that you'll have your story by six." He calmly walked toward the opening doors of a well-timed elevator and stepped in. Once inside Jimmy turned around, wearing a calm expression and a proud grin on his face.

The elevator doors had almost closed when Perry spoke up and said, "Tell her I want that story by 5:30!" Jimmy gave a little wave of his hand and descended to the ground floor.

No one spoke or moved for a full minute; all eyes were glued on Perry and what he might do next. Clark could hear his editor's heart beating so rapidly he thought he was going to have a heart attack; instead, the man took a deep breath in, turned around and faced the mute crowd.

"Alright, show's over people! We've got a paper to put to bed…" he walked back toward his office and the bull pen became a hive of activity again.

Clark stared at the elevator doors that had closed behind Jimmy a moment before. _I don't believe it, I just don't believe it. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes…I just don't believe it. Jimmy Olsen finally stood up for himself!_


	8. A Nighttime Visit

Lois had arrived at home physically sore and more than a little dirty, but this was eclipsed by the sense of fulfillment that radiated from within her. How many times in her life had she been on the receiving end of a rescue?_ More than I would care to count._ _And this time I was able to lend a helping hand instead of reaching out for one_. Nor could she get over Jimmy's actions that afternoon either. _Jimmy being forceful? Decisive? Heroic? I wouldn't have pictured it in a million years!_ She set her purse down on the hall table and made her way upstairs. Jason was upstate visiting with his grandparents for a week while Richard had been unexpectedly called away on business, and although she missed her boys dearly, she was grateful for the fact that no explanations would be needed for her disheveled appearance.

Two hours later a refreshed Lois Lane hit the "Send" button on her e-mail, conveying her completed article to Perry White's in-box. She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands behind her head, and inhaled deeply. The smell of smoke still lingered in her nostrils, but not nearly as strong as it had before. Lois also felt the ache in her muscles seeping in, and she knew that getting out of bed tomorrow was going to be more of a chore than usual. She momentarily reflected on the events of that afternoon, and then snapped herself out of her reverie to pick up the phone and make a call.

"Hey, Jimmy? It's Lois."

"Oh hey, how are you doing?"

"You know, alright," she tried to pass it off as casually as possible. "You?"

She could just hear the excitement in his voice, "Lois, you'll never guess what happened when I got back to the office. Perry was…"

"Why don't you tell me in the cab, ok? There's someplace we need to go."

Jimmy, very confused, stopped his story. "Uh, ok, sure Lois…"

"Great, meet me in front of your apartment building in twenty minutes, ok?"

Forty minutes later the duo found themselves back where their day had begun, at Metropolis General Hospital. Lois could not stop laughing as she pictured Perry's face as Jimmy concluded his story and they stepped out of the cab.

"I swear, I thought the guy was going to have a heart attack right then and there!"

"From the sounds of it he probably thought he _was_ having one Jimmy!" she said, gasping for breath in-between laughs, "But in all honesty, it's about time that you stood up for yourself. Clark and I have been saying it for some time; you shouldn't be the whipping boy anymore."

"No, no I'm not. You're right Lois, no more Jimmy the Doormat."

"Thatta boy!" She said grinning as they passed through the hospital's automatic doors. They both grew more sober as they approached the information desk. The nurse looked up from her paperwork with a slightly exasperated look on her face.

"Yes, how can I help you?" she asked Lois in a condescending tone.

"Hi, um, we're looking for a Mrs. Anne Crewe? She was brought in by ambulance earlier and…"

"I'm afraid that visiting hours are over Miss. You'll have to come back tomorrow after 9 o'clock."

"But I…we..."

The nurse quickly interjected, "Rules are rules Miss, and I can't have you disturbing the patient. She needs her rest."

"But we're here to make a delivery!" Jimmy chimed in.

"A delivery?" The nurse asked questioningly, half-getting up to see what was so important that it took two delivery people to disturb her in the midst of her work.

"Yeah, that's right."

"And what exactly is it that you're delivering?"

"Well, um, it's a….you see…." And here Jimmy fumbled as his lie was called out.

Lois picked up the ball and ran with it. "It is of a highly sensitive and personal nature," she said, patting the side of her bulging purse. "This is Mrs. Crewe's hired guard and I am her personal assistant. She'll be very upset if we're not allowed in to deliver this item to her personally."

The nurse paused for a moment, eying them with suspicion. Jimmy puffed himself up as much as he could so as to look the part of a hired guard, while Lois coolly and calmly stared the nurse down.

"She's in room 247, but don't be long now," she said, and she watched the 'hired guard' and 'personal assistant' of Mrs. Crewe stride down the hall.

Inside the white and sterile-smelling hospital room lay the sleeping body of Anne Crewe. She had been propped up into a sitting position in her bed and both her hands were wrapped in white gauze almost up to her elbows. At first Lois thought it odd that she be wearing evening gown gloves in a hospital setting before she realized that they were the result of the extensive burns she received trying to put out the fire. _That poor woman…_she thought. Jimmy also looked at the figure in the bed with moist eyes. He was not normally a praying man, but he gave a silent prayer of thanks to any omniscient being who was listening that things had ended as well as they had. And then, looking back at Mrs. Crewe's arms, Jimmy couldn't help but rub his own left arm which he had cleaned and bandaged up at home earlier.

Jimmy and Lois sat there for five minutes, watching a mute Pat Sajak and Vanna White go through their game show routine on TV, before Mrs. Crewe stirred in bed. She woke up knowing that she was in the hospital, but when she had been told this, she couldn't recall with any certainty. The last thing she did remember was watching her soap opera in the living room then smelling the smoke and seeing the fire in the kitchen. Everything else after that was fuzzy to her. Someone at the hospital had told her that she'd been burned a bit in the fire but that everyone else got out ok. _That's good,_ she thought,_ at least no one else got hurt_. She turned to look at the two strangers on either side of her bed, trying to recollect where she might have seen them before.

"It's ok, don't try and move," the man said to her, inadvertently putting his hand on her wrist.

"Jimmy don't do that!" the woman hissed at the man, "It's got to be very painful for her!" He jerked his hand back quickly.

Mrs. Crewe perked up at the sound of the name. "Jimmy…?" she asked, feebly.

"Yes ma'am. I…well, we…we were the ones that helped you earlier today. We just wanted to see how you were doing…"

"May we get you anything? How about some water, would you like some water?" Lois asked nervously. She had never been good at this sort of thing; even when Jason was sick with a cold Richard automatically took over. "Maybe you'd like us to fluff your pillows?"

"No, no thank you," Mrs. Crewe replied rather feebly. "Jimmy…Jimmy…I remember that name…." she looked at the young man's face with searching eyes. "The fire…you lifted me up….and you," she said, now turning toward Lois, "You knocked down my door." Mrs. Crewe remembered coming to for the briefest of brief moments in-between collapsing in the living room and waking up in the hospital. That afternoon, when the young man carried her outside, the light of the sun and the wind hit her so full on that she thought she was flying. She thought that Superman had saved her. Now she knew that there were two blurred faces she saw in the light, and it was the young woman's voice just now that confirmed that they were indeed her rescuers. Her screaming "JIMMY!" over and over again had helped bring her around again in the first place. "The fire…I tried to put it out. I just don't know what happened…but thank you. Thank you so much. You two saved my life. I just don't know how I'll ever re-pay you. And words…words just aren't enough."

Lois let a silent tear fall down her cheek. She was just so glad that this woman was going to be ok she didn't know what else to say.

"We didn't come here for thanks Ma'am; we just wanted to make sure you were alright. We'll be going now, we know you need to get your rest," Jimmy said, heading toward the doorway with Lois trailing behind him.

"Thank you," she said in a quiet voice to her departing guests. "You're my heroes."


	9. The Following Morning

The morning following the earthquake and the fire found Clark waking up somewhat earlier than usual. All his senses were tingling as he got in his blue and red suit and took his dawn trek around the globe to see if anyone was in need of his assistance. After stopping an armed robbery in progress in Prague and an out of control car from running down an elderly woman in Florence he headed home to Metropolis and his meager apartment. Before landing on the back balcony he grabbed an early edition of the Daily Planet from a nearby street vendor who was so groggy he only noticed the coins left jingling on the counter. The paper lay open on Clark's fold-out kitchen table as he zoomed around showering, making breakfast, and changing into his work clothes. Forty-one seconds later (his best was twenty-two seconds, but he decided to take it easy this morning) he sat down to a cup of coffee when an interesting sight met his eyes.

The headline read: "NEW MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET" followed by "Anonymous Heroes Save Doomed Apartment Occupants". The story was written by a reporter at the Planet he didn't know too well, someone who had gotten their start while he was away, and he was curious to find out how Lois had been scooped by a relative newbie. The article was fairly routine, repeating most of the information Captain Millbank had given Superman the day before, but what did interest Clark were the pictures featured prominently below the headline. On the left was a photo of the building in mid-blaze, with a handful of firefighters in the foreground battling to put it out. One the right was a blurred photo of a woman half in and half out of a cab, talking to a man with a torn shirt sleeve and a large gash.

Clark stared in disbelief at the image before him. The long, albeit indistinct, brown hair of the cab occupant belonged on the head of the same woman that mesmerized him day in and day out; Lois Lane. _Which means that the man next to her could only be Jimmy Olsen…_

"My God…" he said out loud, as the extent of his friends' heroic actions hit home. He stared at the blurry picture awhile longer, almost boring holes in it with his heat vision. The photograph explained everything; why Lois had finished her story about the award ceremony from home, why Jimmy looked like he got beat up, and why he finally had the nerve to stand up to Perry. It all made perfect sense to him now. _How could I have been so blind?_

Later that morning, Clark saw two stiff and weary heroes get off the elevator and walk into the bull pen. He was 99.9 percent convinced that it was Lois and Jimmy who saved the tenants from the brownstone fire yesterday, but he used his x-ray vision just to make sure. The tell-tale proof was in the gash in Jimmy's left arm, which was now cleaned up and bandaged, and in the miniscule amount of smoke that still rattled about in Lois' lungs. They had been talking to each other as they got off the elevator when Clark walked forward to greet them.

"Hey guys!" he said as cheerfully as he could.

Lois looked up from her conversation with Jimmy, a little startled. "Morning Clark."

"I got some coffee downstairs, thought you guys might like a little pick-me-up. Lois here's yours, black, three sugars; and Jimmy, one for you, two creams, one sugar. Did I get it right?"

They reached out for their coffee simultaneously. Jimmy took a sip and smacked his lips, "Gee, this is great, thanks a lot!"

"No problem guys," he replied, walking back with them to their desks. "Hey, how'd everything go yesterday?"

Jimmy shot Lois a look as she asked, "Yesterday?"

"Yeah, you know, at Metropolis General…the award ceremony…is this ringing any bells?" He waved a hand in front of the vacant stares of his friends.

The photographer and the reporter immediately relaxed. "Oh yeah, it was fine. You know how those things go Clark," Lois told him.

They reached Jimmy's desk as she finished speaking, and he looked down to find an open copy of the day's Daily Planet that Clark had left open for him on his desk. It was the front page of section B, the local news section, and Jimmy nearly spilled his coffee in his excitement.

"OH MY GOSH!"

"What is it Jim?" Lois asked, concerned.

"My photos…the Chief, he used SIX of my photos!!!"

"That's great Jimmy!" Clark said, giving him a congratulatory pat on the back by his good shoulder.

"Well it's not like you didn't give him enough options you know. There were over _four hundred_ pictures on that camera…" she muttered, half to herself, as she walked to her desk. Clark and Jimmy looked at each other and grinned; it was just Lois being Lois.

For the rest of the day Clark watched over his friends with a mixture of awe and pride. Occasionally he used his heat vision to warm their sore muscles, or his super-breath to cool and relax them, but he had to be careful lest someone was watching. As far as Superman's rescue efforts in California were concerned, the Daily Planet devoted a small section on one of the back pages of section F, the National News section. to the story. That was fine with him of course; the real credit had been given where it was due, right there on the front page, to the two not-so-anonymous heroes whom Clark was happy to call his friends: Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen.


End file.
